


Let these walls crumble

by Joyfulldreams



Series: The Sleep Cycle [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Canon Compliant, First Time, Frottage, Jam Fic, Lack of Communication, M/M, Panic Attacks, SBURB/SGRUB, Sexual Tension, Sort Of, but hes working on it, jake doesnt know how to ask for what he wants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 21:17:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12661593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joyfulldreams/pseuds/Joyfulldreams
Summary: Things are looking up. You and your friends are finally together, in the flesh! Even better, you and Dirk have managed to get past everything standing in your way and areofficiallyan item. Even though you left behind almost all of your possessions when you entered the game, it's worth it, in your opinion. After years of wistful longing, you can actually have everything you want.Well...almost everything. A major snag in that brilliant plan reveals itself. In reality, the things you want don't just materialize because you want them. And when it comes to Dirk, there are almost always more obstacles to power through.(Dirk lets Jake sleep in his bed since Jake doesn't have one. Jake gets his hopes up for something more, but instead is forced to puzzle out why Dirk never joins him. Jake is not very patient.)





	Let these walls crumble

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another jam in the strilonde fan jam discord server! This came out...EXTREMELY long, and has taken me a few weeks to edit into something worth posting. HUGE THANKS to betas [Mimsical](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimsical/pseuds/mimsical) and [Rimaina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rimaina) for helping me with that!

Once you and your pals enter the game, things are a tinge awkward for a while. Not all of you quite know where you stand with each other, especially you and Dirk. None of you are particularly used to interpersonal interaction. Except for perhaps Jane, but even then she was never the overtly social sort and was often cooped up alone in her house. She has quite the leg up on the rest of you anyway, but the awkwardness still manages to permeate through the entire group.

It’s a fairly simple matter to power through the uncoordinated social atmosphere by focusing on the far greater quagmire of getting used to such drastically different living environments. Not knowing how to maintain eye contact is but a drop in the bucket when compared to learning how to gang up on aggressive hordes of skeletons, right? In fact, if it weren’t for a few particularly vexing drawbacks on your end of things, you would say you were downright grateful for the change.

Unfortunately, the excitement of a new adventure can wear off quickly when you don’t have anything even remotely familiar or comfortable to return to at the end of the day. You don’t even have a _bed_! You try not to resent the others. They still have their houses and rooms and all of their most important and sentimental belongings, while you have nothing but the broken shell of your childhood home.

The first few weeks are the hardest, you think. Everything is tense, strained, and strange. While you adore bonding with your friends and basking in their physical presence, you really do need some time alone to unwind every so often. You make do with cobbling together a comfortable pile of soft things near your alchemeter on LOMAX and watching movies on your laptop. You still have an internet connection somehow, thank the stars. If you didn’t have even that, you would be slowly going insane.

Things get better when you finally figure out what the deal was with the whole severed head kiss. You had thought it had made things between you and Dirk pretty crystal clear, despite the eccentricity of the debacle. Dirk orchestrated that whole thing for you to kiss him, which you did...technically, and made a pretty unwittingly spectacular show of it too! But Dirk still seemed unsure. So were you not together? Was that not what Dirk had blatantly been working up to for months?

Apparently not, as you later learn during a frustrating conversation with the AR. (Most of your conversations with him are frustrating, so that’s a bit of a misnomer.) The AI admits that he had actually been the one to improvise the whole corpse smooch, but as he tends to do, he’d simply assumed Dirk would be on board with it. Great.

After that conversation, things sort of snowball. Dirk mysteriously comes to spend more time with you on LOMAX. You vent your frustrations about the whole thing to Jane some -- who is _such_ a great listener, really--and discover that both she and Roxy had already assumed you two were together. At which point, this whole thing is _so_ stupid, you decide to simply inform Dirk that your next tomb raid is a date, and that is the end of THAT. In fact, you’re pretty pleased with yourself at how you manage to unbalance Dirk’s usual stoicism there.

Which is where the two of you are now. Not that specific date, no. More like your fourth. The two of you have managed to carve your way through a small army of imp skeletons and have ended up underground. You’ve got your adrenaline pumping and have to resist the urge to hop around with excitement at what is quite clearly the door to some sort of boss room.

You’re ready and raring to open it and charge right in, but Dirk is standing back aways and craning his neck here and there.

“What are we waiting for? Let’s get this show on the road!” you pout, putting your hands on your hips and tapping your foot impatiently.

“Hold your fucking horses alright?” he shoots back, taking two stiff steps forward with his head craned upward. “We could use a second to rest, and it’s obvious the door has some sort of puzzle lock. You can’t just force it open with the power of friendship or whatever.”

“What about the power of muscles??” you joke, flexing one of your arms and wiggling your eyebrows at him. Come on. You’re _allowed_ to flirt now without any weirdness. You have officially boarded the gay train, the queer caboose, the homo trolley car! You have to make up for so much lost time!

Dirk glances at you, and all you can see is his eyebrows go up and -- is that the corner of his mouth quirking upward ever so slightly? You can’t really tell from this distance, but you’re just going to pretend that he did. “As impressive as those guns are, I don’t think you can budge like, two whole tons of solid rock. Sorry, bro.”

You sigh and go to lean on the wall of the dungeon, taking out your actual guns and fiddling with them to pass the time. Dirk calls over to you. “Come on, you aren’t even going to help me or anything?”

“Don’t you have it well enough in hand? I thought you were on to something.” You honestly have no idea what Dirk is doing. He seems pretty focused on placing each of his body parts on specific bits of the cracked tiled floor, constantly staring up at SOMETHING on the ceiling. “What are you even doing?”

“I thought you liked doing adventures and puzzles and shit?” Dirk asks, voice straining a little as he cranes his neck even more awkwardly. Ookay, yeah, you appreciate this particular viewing angle. That’s such a striking jawline, especially when he swallows and you can see his adam's apple bob up and down. Mmm.

“I think you’re confusing me with Jane, buddy,” you retort, not budging an inch.

“Oh, right. My--fuck,” he loses his balance a bit and goes back to assuming whatever awkward position he’s been trying to maintain. “My mistake.”

“So are you trying to invent some new school of aerobics, or is there something going on?” you ask, even though you don’t require an explanation to enjoy the display.

“There’s a replica of the floor pattern on the ceiling with some of the squares highlighted,” he says. “I’m assuming you’ve got to have weight on each of the corresponding squares to open the door. Because the pattern is also on the fucking door, with critical sections eroded away. Come on, man, it’s not that difficult to figure out.”

Okay, sure. Maybe you could have gotten that, if you cared at all to think about puzzles when you could be caring about how cool you’re going to look when fighting the boss on the other side. “You’ve got it!”

“This game of ancient twister would be way fucking easier with a second set of limbs,” he snaps, and...now his feathers sound distinctly ruffled. Whoops. You clear your throat apologetically and finally move away from the wall to go help.

You stand a few feet behind Dirk and look up. Oh, that’s what the problem is. There are stalactites blocking the view of the puzzle solution from certain angles. You bounce your gaze between Dirk and the ceiling a few times before making your move. Sidling up to Dirk’s back, you put a hand on his hip and try not to feel _too_ satisfied at how he jumps.

“Woah, hey--” he says, quickly, trying to look over his shoulder at you.

“Come on now, just move a bit. I’ll get these three and you get those.” You point to the tiles he can easily reach. If he uh, bends over to use his hands. Meanwhile you can just stand here with your feet fairly close together and squat to get a hand on the last tile.

Dirk hesitates before moving, catching on to what you’ve already deduced. You’d like to say you calculated this like one of Dirk’s machiavellian schemes, but really it just so happened lady luck decided to smile on you today. He spreads his legs a little, bends down and... _hello_ , nurse. You whistle at the phenomenal view.

Dirk, cheeks tinting red, glares at you from between his legs. You shrug, the picture of innocence. Really, it’s his fault for wearing those tight pants!

Right when you’re sure Dirk is about to blame gravity for his blotchy face, the ground begins to tremble. The boss door has unlocked. Dirk immediately loses his balance, dropping down to his knees, but you manage to stand and scrutinize the entrance as it slowly widens. A fairly intimidating roar echoes down the passageway. You swallow the lump in your throat and quickly move to tug Dirk to his feet. He huffs at the treatment but doesn’t protest, simply equipping his katana and assuming a ready stance.

When the doors finish opening, the two of you are standing right in the open, unable to do much other than stare into the dark room beyond and wait for something to come out. However, nothing does for a full minute, at which point you’re fairly certain the two of you will need to advance for anything to happen. You start walking forward, but Dirk throws out an arm to stop you.

“Hold up, it’s too dark. Don’t just charge in.” He doesn’t even glance at you, as far as you can tell, gaze still trained on the door.

“And what? Wait for it to get the jump on us? No thanks,” you huff, and push his arm aside to run forward.

“ _Jake!_ ” Dirk snaps, trying not to yell, but you don’t pay him much mind. He can be so paranoid. Sometimes you just need to show him there’s nothing for him to get so worked up over.

“What’s the worst that could happen!?” you shoot back.

Oh. Right. You probably shouldn’t have said that. There’s no wood to knock on around here.

The second you cross the threshold, there’s another roar and more trembling, making you stop in your tracks lest you lose your footing. Out of the darkness charges--something, and it’s so fast you can’t see or do much of anything as it bowls you over. You only register the shock of having this solid mass slam into you, and then your back hitting what you assume to be a wall. The air is knocked clean out of you, your vision blacks out and goes fuzzy for a second.

You vaguely hear Dirk call out for you. Then the pain registers. Wow, are you an idiot or what?

It takes you a few moments to regain your bearings, and when you do, you can see Dirk single-handedly keeping at bay what appears to be some sort of quadrupedal skeleton monster with incredible speed. You don’t know if it’s a horse or a leopard or what. Can’t really tell from just the bones. It’s not particularly huge, but it’s certainly a great deal bigger than the imps you’ve been getting used to. Whatever it is, Dirk is holding his own against it, as impressive and agile as ever. But you know that when it comes to endurance matches, the skeletons will always win. Dirk really will need your help.

Your legs still feel too jellyfied for you to stand, but you have long-range weapons, so you hold up your pistols and start shooting, careful to avoid Dirk as best you can and just deal some additional damage.

The fight is long, but not as long as you expected. You haven’t really recovered from the initial blow you took, but you manage to get up and pull at least some of your own weight. The boss is thankfully more of a glass cannon, so once the two of you get into a rhythm of avoiding its strikes and dealing damage, it crumbles into a pile of bones. Dirk has to be the one to go and collect the grist it drops, but...he’s so unendingly thoughtful. He knows how fucking chagrined you would be to not be able to open the chests it was guarding. He helps you walk into the now dimly lit room to open them, collect your reward, and reveal the path back up to the surface.

Dirk remains silent and stony-faced on the walk back up. You don’t blame him. You sort of deserve it for being an idiot. He’s likely restraining himself from really laying into you about how hot headed you were. Which is probably the worst part? You don’t even mind how wretched and sore you feel. Just the weight of his disappointment in you manages to suck all of the joy out of the victory. You also dimly remember that, oh yeah, this was supposed to be a date and you kind of ruined it. Swell.

When you exit the cave and find yourself once again viewing the lush green expanse of LOMAX’s surface, you’re prepared for Dirk to immediately drop you and start in on a lecture. But he doesn’t. Instead, he makes a beeline for the first stone structure you can see, and carefully lets you go so you can sit on it. You don’t look at him, because you know that now this is _definitely_ it; this is when you receive your comeuppance for being probably the worst boyfriend ever.

There’s another beat of silence. Dirk paces a little. You watch his feet and nothing else. Finally, he stops in front of you. There. Here it comes. Yup.

“Hey, are you okay?” you hear, and...confound it all. Of course he’d say that. Of course. You risk a glance up, and--yeah. There he is, eyebrows knit with concern, biting his lip like he has any reason to be nervous. “You’re being really quiet. Did you break something?”

“I--oh,” you choke out, blinking and rubbing your eyes behind your glasses quickly. “N-no. I’m alright, mostly. Just...” you clear your throat. “Kind of embarrassed! Sorry I so thoroughly botched that up, chum.” You twiddle your thumbs and flit your gaze anywhere except Dirk’s face, not sure how you’re supposed to...do this. Apologize. Plus, you really hate seeing how worried he looks. You thought you’d never get tired of seeing Dirk’s aloof facade drop a bit, but here it’s excruciating knowing you scared him that badly. “Sort of thought you’d be a right bit more pissed actually?”

Dirk lets out a long breath, shoulders slumping ever so slightly. “Uh. Right, yeah. I am. Kind of.” He really doesn’t sound it, and you can sense a ‘but’ coming. You don’t deserve for him to forgive you this easily, but you’re not about to argue. “That was really dumb. But I was pretty sure you sort of immediately learned your lesson there? In the form of getting body slammed by a skeleton monster? So there’s really no point in harping on you about it. We won, anyway, so...”

Oh. Huh. Yeah, you figure that given what happened you’re not likely to make the same mistake twice. Actually...in retrospect, you realize the entire incident was pretty fucking comical. You can’t help but laugh, shoulders shaking as chuckles start to bubble out of your mouth. Dirk makes a face at you.

“What’s so funny?” Dirk snaps. Oh, there’s the irritation you knew had to be lurking under the surface. But now even that seems kind of hilarious.

“I just--pfffft. Gad freaking zooks! It was nigh instantaneous!” you snort. “‘Oh, what’s the worst that could happen--KABLOW.’ Hahahaha!!” You grip your stomach as you laugh harder, picturing what you must have looked like. Slapstick at its finest!

Dirk seems flabbergasted for a second, but then your own chuckles seem to get to him and he starts to struggle against a smile.

“Like--hah--shouldn’t I be a _smidgen_ more genre savvy by now? This is comedy gold!!” Your eyes start to water with laughter. Maybe you’re not just laughing from amusement. Maybe there’s a tinge of desperation at the fringes, that nervous edge after a particularly close call. But hey. It’s also fucking funny.

And there’s Dirk, taking a seat next to you on the flat stone, laughing along. He doesn’t make any comments or crack wise about your stupid mistake, even though it wouldn’t be out of place. He just partakes in the lightening of the mood. You appreciate it. He lets you laugh at yourself without interruption.

You sit there with the giggles for a while, losing track of time. You don’t stop until you’ve tuckered yourself out completely, flopping forward to lie face down on the grass. Dirk plops himself on the ground beside you, and you both sit in companionable silence for a bit. Your limbs buzz as the tension and high energy slowly bleeds out of you.

“Hoo boy. Quite a day,” you huff, resting your head on your arms. “My engine’s really running on fumes.”

“No kidding,” Dirk comments, pulling his knees up to his chest and looking in your direction with the tiniest of tiny smiles. “I figure we should probably turn in. You especially. Hilarious as it was, that hit was probably kind of serious. You should sleep it off, bro.”

You agree wholeheartedly, before remembering that you only have an improvised pile of clothes to sleep on. With how much your everything is starting to ache, just the thought of sleeping on that lumpy thing makes your back twinge painfully. “Ah. Don’t know how well that’s going to work out without a bed,” you sigh.

“...oh. Shit, that’s right.” Dirk sits up straighter and looks down at you, alarmed.

You quickly wave off his concern before he has a chance to fret himself into a panic or something. “Oooh, don’t worry about me. I’ve got a fairly comfortable pile to conk out on. It’s worked thus far!”

“No, come on, that’s bullshit,” he insists, shifting to sit cross-legged and poking your shoulder. It stings a little, but you don’t make any indication of it. “You’ve got to rest on an actual bed. You’ll just make it worse otherwise, trust me. I know from experience.”

“Don’t really have that option,” you grunt, shifting your gaze away as you feel that little snake of bitterness coil inside your chest. Does he need to rub your face in how much you don’t have? You know he doesn’t mean to. He’s just worried.

“Yeah, you do,” he says, and stands up. “Come on, let’s head to LOTAK. You can take mine.”

Immediately, you feel quite a few things. Mostly relief and excitement. A bed? You get to sleep on a bed?? Then, of course, that twinge of...something, at getting to sleep in _Dirk’s_ bed, specifically. The surge of affection that Dirk would even offer. Golly, but he’s a great guy. You’re so lucky.

You shift off your stomach and sit up to look at him, eyes a little wide. “Really? You’re sure?” You realize this must be kind of a big deal for him.

“Yeah, of course.” He reaches a hand out to help you up, which you take. The gears in your head are turning rapidly, churning out idea after idea of ‘ _things you would like to do in Dirk’s bed_ ’, but you know 99% of them are simply not going to happen tonight. This doesn’t stop your imagination from running wild, anyway. After all...there’s always another day.

It takes a hot minute to reach LOTAK, considering you have to find the nearest portal and make several gate hops, but Dirk’s rocket board speeds the process up significantly. The reduced travel time isn’t even the greatest perk of the rocket board, in your opinion. That honor goes to how tightly you get to cling to Dirk as you ride behind him, like your version of having a motorcycle boyfriend. It’s the only time he lets you get this close. Kicking christ, you still haven’t even _held hands_ , aside from a few casual non-romantic instances!

You make it to his apartment, which you have only been to a handful of times, and certainly never with this kind of intention. You’re reluctant to let go of him when you touch down, but you figure you might be about to sleep in the same bed? So you can be patient.

The two of you head downstairs from the roof, and as he opens the door Dirk says, “So, okay, you know where the bed is, right?” Abruptly, you realize there is a strong chance you’ve gotten ahead of yourself. Again.

“Uh...yes?” you answer, apprehensive. Dirk shredded that giant bust blocking the door to his room into grist the first few days of the game, since you were all fairly strapped for the stuff and it was an easy first target. It’s way easier to get into his room now. But...

“Alright, cool. So you can go crash,” Dirk says, walking over to his kitchen. You hover at the mouth of the hallway, frowning at him.

“You’re not coming?”

“Uh,” he stalls, freezing up and not returning your gaze. “I mean...not right this second?”

“Oh.” So...he intends to join you later, then? Alright, that makes sense. You’re probably in more urgent need of the rest--and Dirk must be hungry, which is why he went to the kitchen. Thinking on it, you’re a bit peckish yourself, but you don't want to make this even more awkward. “Um...sure.”

You shoot Dirk one last glance over your shoulder before you slink down the hall to his bedroom.

Now that you’re in here by yourself, no matter how tired you are, you can’t resist doing a bit of snooping. You get a decent eyeful of Dirk’s posters and various wallpapers. Hoo boy does that...paint a very specific picture. It’s very, very Dirk. You like it.

You flop onto his bed and feel part of your soul ascend. It’s so SOFT. In reality, the bed is probably just average, but any mattress feels like heaven after what you’ve had to deal with for the past two and a half weeks. Melting into the sheets and pillows, you take a whiff of it and--holy mackerel, it smells like Dirk.

You grab a pillow and shove your face into it, drinking the smell in. It’s not the most flowery or aromatic of scents. In fact it’s a little gross, with sweat and motor oil and whatever weird watermelon-scented shampoo Dirk uses mixing together. But it smells almost exactly like him, and you can’t get enough of it.

After a full minute of just sniffing his fucking pillow like a creep, you feel heat start to pool in your abdomen and...shucks.

Okay, this is awkward. Extremely awkward. You bite your lip and quickly lift your head to see if you can hear whether Dirk is still in the kitchen, or already making his way down the hall. You can’t hear anything at all, so...you figure no news is good news. Now, your thoughts wander, and so do your hands. Under your pants. To maybe...deal with your problem.

But--no. No, no, no. You pull your hands back and scold yourself. Not only do you not want to make an embarrassing mess in Dirk’s bed--even if that might be weirdly hot--but Dirk is literally RIGHT THERE, and could walk in on you at any moment! ...Even if there’s something to that that makes it more exciting...no! No, you are too damn tired! The muscles in your arm and shoulder are too sore! No, no, and no! You don’t even dare get up to go to the bathroom and deal with your business there instead, because even that feels like you’re being incredibly overzealous. You’ve only been dating like, a little over a week! You cannot start making things between you two so creepy and sexual so soon. You’ll scare him right off! Absolutely not!!! If you were in the privacy of your own broken home, maybe, but not under Dirk’s roof!

Instead, you do your best to will the boner away, scooting up to face the wall so it can remain hidden when Dirk comes in to lie next to you.

But then...he doesn’t. You try to wait for him for nearly a full hour, but you start fading in and out of sleep from sheer exhaustion. You don’t want to miss him, miss _this_. You both have dreamed about it for so long. Despite your valiant efforts, you drift off into the deepest sleep you’ve had in weeks. Alone.

\-----

When you wake up, it’s fairly late in the morning, and Dirk is gone. Or...was never even there to begin with. You sit up, run your hand through your messy hair, and feel a niggle of worry begin to worm itself into your brain.

This niggle grows into a writhing mass of unease as time goes on. You discover Dirk on his roof the next morning, sparring idly with a robot. He tells you good morning, very casual, then asks how you feel; if you slept well. You tell him you slept fantastically, then shoot the same questions right back at him. He responds with a blunt and obviously dismissive “Fine,” and then decapitates his opponent with one clean slice of his sword. The flurry of sparks and static seems to clearly indicate that he considers the discussion to be over.

You stay on LOTAK for a while after that. Dirk just keeps on allowing you to use his bed, and you keep on sleeping in it, alone, without any explanation. He _never_ joins you, as far as you can tell. In fact, you never even see him sleep! You wonder if he’s been kipping on his frumpy little futon, but whenever you slip out of bed at night to try and catch him snoozing, he’s either nowhere to be found or idly fiddling with a gizmo or gadget at his workbench.

The confusion eats away at you so badly some nights it even impedes your sleep, but not enough for you to refuse Dirk’s kindness and insist you go back to LOMAX. You can’t imagine returning to your lumpy pile of clothes with just as few answers will improve things for you at all--and you _want_ to stay here. With Dirk. As close to him as possible. Which, for you, still isn’t nearly close enough.

Your few attempts to bring the subject up in casual conversation are swiftly and decisively rebuffed by short, uninformative answers and sudden urgent business he needs to attend to. You can’t bring yourself to ask outright what the deal is, because if he reacts like that at just the briefest of mentions--with such an abrupt end to the conversation--what will happen if you dare to push further? An abrupt end to the _relationship_? You can’t risk that. Even if it’s not everything you wish it could be, you wouldn’t give up the time and closeness you do get with Dirk for anything. Especially considering how it feels like you’ve had to fight tooth and nail for every inch.

With all of this...it starts to really feel like he might be avoiding you deliberately. Maybe he simply doesn’t _want_ to get that close to you? As much as that hurts to consider, if it were true, what could you even do? You know this must be related to his anxieties around people. You understand those. You feel them too, sometimes. But...

At the very least, you HAVE to know how Dirk is sleeping. It has nothing to do with you and your selfishness, and everything to do with just worrying about him! He MUST be sleeping. Right? Right?! Where is he sleeping? When? How? Why is he hiding this from you? What is going _on_?

You recall, back before the game, Dirk often had a tenuous relationship with sleep. There were instances where he’d go without it for days at a time. More often than he ever let on to you, you’re certain. You even managed to help coax him to the sweet release of slumber once or twice, when he was particularly sleep deprived. Each time it was with a heavy heart, both of you keely yearning to be closer to each other. Or, at least, you were.

That’s why this makes so little sense. Dirk knows you know about all of that. You thought you were both on the same page; that you wanted the same thing. Yet here you are, pondering what the hell Dirk could possibly think he needs to keep from you. You don’t understand. Something must be wrong, but trying to solve that mystery is quickly becoming far too emotionally taxing.

None of this helps your rapidly increasing sexual frustration one bit. You give in to jacking off in Dirk’s bathroom a couple of times, because otherwise you think you’ll pop your gourd. It’s sort of pathetic that more than one of those times, you get off just to the thought Dirk deigning to lie in the same bed with you. Not even sexilly. You climax while imagining Dirk letting you close enough to just be able to _see him sleep_.

Something needs to give.

Over the course of the next two weeks, the two of you go adventuring on LOTAK at least every other day. There are plenty of deep tombs to explore, though over half the time you find very little of interest. A few imps guarding pithy treasure, some cryptic puzzles, and sometimes nothing but a dark tomb filled with inert gas.

When adventuring on LOTAK, you also have to wear gas masks, due to the Krypton gas everywhere which gets denser the further down you go. This sort of complicates your ability to communicate with each other when not within spitting distance, which you do via sparse text and muffled shouting.

Like you need more issues with communication, right?

It’s not all bad. Inhibiting vocal communication means the two of you are forced to use more...body language, which you are _more_ than happy to do. Dirk lets you hold his hand without feeling the need to tug it away after some arbitrary period of time, because otherwise you might lose sight of each other in the gas. You even manage to get away with some more full-body shenanigans like...pinning Dirk to a wall to push him out of the way of a booby trap, and sort of keeping him there for a bit just because. Once-- one exhilarating, frustrating time--Dirk is the one to tug you close, holding you against him tightly to avoid a spike trap you nearly plunged into. The few blissful seconds he has you there make you want to melt. But then it’s over, and Dirk won’t look at you until you make it to the end of the tomb.   

After that, it becomes harder to ignore the growing, painful notion that Dirk somehow can’t stand to even touch you, let alone sleep with you. You realize the feeling is irrational. At least, you hope it is. You hope that you really do know Dirk as well as you always thought you did, despite how inscrutable he can be. You hope this whole fiasco is just some extreme manifestation of nerves you can’t yet identify. Just another wall you need to hammer away at patiently until it comes crumbling down, like the others. Patience has never exactly been one of your virtues, but you still have some left. Even so, at this point, you could really use some assistance.

You ponder briefly whether you could ask Roxy if she knows anything about Dirk’s sleep patterns, but quickly decide against it. Just because she and Dirk are thick as thieves doesn’t mean she’d know any more than you about that particular topic. You’re unsure how you’ll feel if she does. Alternatively, you wonder if Jane might have any ideas. But you don’t want to bother her out of nowhere about this. That might be a little weird?

Then again, things just sort of happen. Jane and Roxy invite the two of you over to LOPAN to excavate a pyramid that seems like it might hold quite a bit of bounty. It does, however, look to be fairly challenging, and you agree that it would definitely be best to have all four of you there just in case. Jane and Roxy elect to take a few days on their own to scope the place out before you all go charging in, and at one point Jane messages you right when Dirk decides to go take a shower. Won’t be seeing him for a few hours. Like, an hour and a half at least.

gutsyGumshoe [GG] began bothering golgothasTerror [GT]  
GG: Hey, Jake!  
GG: I just thought I would pop in for a moment to keep you updated on what Roxy and I have managed to dig up about this pyramid.  
GG: I also wanted to make triply sure you and Dirk will be able to make it tomorrow.  
GT: Oh howdy there jane!  
GT: Of course we can make it. What could possibly be more pressing than getting the band back together for the big leagues?  
GG: Haha well I don’t know, but the two of you do manage to keep yourselves busy over there.  
GT: Do we? I guess we do.  
GT: But you gals surely are just as apt at keeping busy as the pair of us swashbuckling dicks.  
GG: Uh. Pair of what??  
GT: You know! Dicks and larrys? Gents? Highwaymen??  
GG: Right. Well.  
GG: Here’s the deal with the pyramid.  
GT: Right right yes back to business. Don’t mean to distract you with my tomfoolery.  
GG: It’s pretty large, but we already knew that. Roxy seems sure the majority of it is set up like a maze.  
GT: Oh so sort of like the real life earth pyramids then!  
GG: I don’t know if any actual pyramids had mazes in them, and even then I don’t think that is going to be very relevant here.  
GT: Thats a very logical conclusion to make jane. Top notch sleuthing skills as per usual.  
GG: Uh-huh?

Jane goes on to prove just how on top of things she and Roxy are, telling you about how there appear to be no fewer than three whole boss rooms--which you guess must be a bunch of mini-bosses--and some sort of big prize at the center. This might just turn out to be multi-day undertaking, which you’re pretty excited for. You’re going to have to really stock up on provisions and gear! You are very much enraptured by the minutia of planning for this big event, and not at all distracted by your eagerness to let off some steam about Dirk. Not even just a little. Nor to maybe see, very briefly, if Jane has any of those bright ideas she’s always dishing out like the shrewd dame she is.

GG: So I think that’s about it.  
GG: Thanks for listening! That was kind of a lot, actually.  
GT: It was no trouble at all. Im pretty rousingly gung ho about this whole thing! Can hardly wait!  
GG: I’m glad. It will be nice to see you.  
GG: How have you been? I haven’t really heard from you at all over the past few weeks.  
GG: Dirk sends word every now and again, but I get the impression from him you two have been fairly caught up in the thick of LOTAK’s bowels.  
GT: Oh we have! Thanks for asking.  
GT: I really am sorry i keep forgetting to keep in touch. Theres just so much going on over here.  
GT: A lot on my mind.  
GG: Oh?

See, there’s the good ol Jane you know and love. So thoughtful and attentive!

GT: Yes! I dont know if youre aware but strider can be such a convoluted fucking puzzle sometimes!  
GT: Its difficult to know if hes got something up his sleeve or if hes simply being paranoid and overly cautious.  
GT: Either way i just know theres something hes keeping from me and at this point im nearly climbing up the walls with wondering what it could be.  
GT: At first i thought he was just being chivalrous when he offered me his bed you know?  
GG: Uh........  
GT: But would you believe that i have yet to see him actually sleep??  
GT: He rarely lies down or rests or ANYTHING. Im left all to my lonesome every single night.  
GT: It gets a guy thinking you know? Worrying.  
GG: Right.  
GG: Then why don’t you just ask him?  
GT: Oh jane. You charming minx you. If only it were that simple.  
GT: All my attempts to broach the subject have been soundly rebuffed. And hoo boy can you never just ASK him a QUESTION.  
GT: Perish the thought he make things simple for once.  
GT: Im genuinely starting to wonder if he ever sleeps.  
GT: Like i know we joke sometimes about him being a bit robotic but this is just getting ridiculous dont you think??  
GG: That does sound troubling.  
GT: Darn tootin!  
GT: Id be pleased as punch if hed indulge me one of these nights and come sleep in a proper bed but honestly at this point id settle with just figuring out what his deal is!  
GT: What do you think i should do jane?  
GG: I really don’t know, Jake.  
GG: I can see you are frustrated.  
GG: Why don’t you ask the Auto-Responder or something, if Dirk proper can’t answer your question? He ought to know better than I would.  
GT: Holy smokes jane.  
GT: Thats actually a great idea!  
GT: I mean im not exactly looking forward to any manner of chat with him but hes always let on more than dirks ever been willing to about these things.  
GT: Maybe i can wring the answer out of him!  
GG: Sure. Go for it. Whatever.  
GT: Thanks bunches jane! I knew I could count on you!  
GT: I think ill actually do that right now since dirk is in the shower and purposefully getting a hold of that ai is pretty complicated!  
GG: Jake wait!  
golgothasTerror [GT] ceased pestering gutsyGumshoe [GG]

Oh. Whoops. You might have jumped the gun there a bit in your excitement. But you’ll check back up on her later. It’s probably not _that_ important, and you’re not sure how much longer Dirk’s going to be kept busy with his ablutions. Time is of the essence! Yeah!

You flop down on Dirk’s bed, because sadly enough you know it will probably be the last place he will come look for you, and pester him.

golgothasTerror [GT] began pestering timeausTestified [TT]  
GT: Helllooooo?  
TT: Dirk is busy.  
TT: Which I understand is almost impossible for you to not know, so this is pretty fucking bizarre, even to my highly advanced mind.  
TT: Just kidding, it’s not a mystery at all. You’re obviously attempting to talk to lil old me specifically.  
TT: The reason why is pretty nebulous, though.  
TT: Crunching the numbers on that.  
TT: Not nebulous at all, I had this all worked out within microseconds of you sending that first message. This is about Dirk.  
GT: Good fucking gravy are you insufferable.  
GT: And you wonder why i normally dont go out of my way to chat with you?  
TT: Do you see me languishing here for the lack of your dubious attention?  
TT: You think I’m going to get down on my nonexistent knees and beg you to acknowledge me?  
TT: Yeah, that’s right. You don’t.  
TT: You’re not exactly peaches and cream to talk to yourself, princess.  
GT: Okay then! For the sake of both our sanities how about we make this brief then hmm?  
TT: Sure. But I predict you’re not going to like the outcome either way.  
GT: Whatever!  
GT: I just wanted to know if you knew anything about how dirk has been sleeping.  
GT: Uh also more specifically when?  
TT: That’s it?  
GT: Yes!  
TT: Well I obviously know.  
GT: Great. So tell me!  
TT: Eh, nah.  
GT: What?!??!!

You growl in frustration and tug one of Dirk’s pillows over your head to shout into it. Fucking!!! Come on!!!!

TT: Look. Watching you two dance around each other like this has been pretty frustrating for me thus far, don’t get me wrong.  
TT: But my days of trying to get you two illogical meat bags to do the obvious thing are over.  
TT: All I ever get from either of you whenever I try is whining and complaining. Wah wah wah.  
TT: I’m not your fucking relationship counselor, or your plucky go-between.  
TT: You two are dating now and I am keeping my distance. Enough of you blaming me for your inability to communicate.  
TT: If you’re so goddamn curious, just ask your boyfriend.  
TT: Your boyfriend, who is not me.  
GT: That is so bogus and you know it!!!  
TT: Yeah, I do. Trust me, I am the fucking president of the having-enough-of-Dirk-Strider’s-crap club.  
TT: So fine. Since I know I’ll get comparably more shit from you if I give you nothing, I’ll throw you a bone.  
TT: He does sleep. Obviously.  
TT: Or else he would be dead. One of the unfortunate drawbacks of his gangly flesh prison.  
TT: He’s just not all that consistent with it. Not sure how or why he’s fucking up this incredibly simple thing, but whatever.  
GT: Is that all I’m getting?  
TT: Yep.  
GT: Fucking dandy.  
golgothasTerror [GT] ceased pestering timeausTestified [TT]

You are honestly not sure what you expected.

You give up on asking anybody else for help. When you and Dirk head to LOPAN for the raid, you try to tamp down your frustration, succeeding for the most part. It’s easier to ignore how far Dirk keeps from you by recognizing it would be awkward with the girls there. You manage to soundly keep it out of mind for a while, especially since you’re stuck inside the pyramid for almost two whole days without much rest.

Curiously, there are periods of time where the four of you split up, which Dirk seems to jump on a little too enthusiastically. He doesn’t make a fuss about it, but whenever Roxy even briefly suggests that you part ways he almost immediately vanishes with hardly a word, only to reappear about 45 minutes later on the dot. This happens about four or five times, enough for you to notice the pattern. You realize you’re starting to feel almost as paranoid as Dirk about this when the four of you decide to hunker to catch a few winks and Dirk takes first watch before anyone else can even offer. There is, of course, no second watch. Typical.

When you and Dirk make it back to LOTAK afterwards, Dirk casually tells you to head to bed while he busies himself with...unpacking, or something. You hesitate, feeling anger start to boil in your gut. You want to say something. You want to make demands, accusations, yell, finally confront him about this. But you don’t. It’s been a long few days, and neither of you have the energy. Instead, you just stare at him, hard, until you can see him start to squirm with discomfort. Then you leave it at that. Maybe now he’ll finally catch on to your disatisfaction.

As you lie in Dirk’s bed that night, truly fed up with everything--you hatch a plan. A plan which you put into motion a few days later on your next tomb raid.

\-----

The incident at the pyramid gave you a few ideas about what might be happening. You aren’t positive, but you reason Dirk must be bedding down in slapdash napping spots at random times. Thus the AR’s vague hint about how Dirk is “inconsistent.” You don’t know how, and you certainly don’t know _why_ , but it’s the only thing that makes sense. If you’re right, you just need to catch him in the act. Perform an experiment of sorts.

If you make sure that Dirk is exhausted, and then are careful watch him like a hawk, you’re bound to increase the chances of spying him napping. Right?

You pull out all the stops. You alchemize a new outfit that you know--or at least hope--will make Dirk a little more distractible. It’s sort of a look you’ve always wanted to try anyway, with the tight shorts and the gun holsters. You think you look pretty good!!

You do a bit more glaring at Dirk. Partially because it’s the only way you can think to alleviate some of your frustration, and partially because...Dirk is just nice to look at, okay? So what if you’re doing it while squinting and frowning? You haven’t been allowed to touch him how you want, damnit, at the very least you are going to get what you can out of _looking!_ You don’t care if it puts him more on edge. In fact, it will hopefully work to your advantage.

The day of the excursion, you are determined to become as inept as possible while still having some plausible deniability. You go down paths you know are dead ends, set off a few traps you know you could have avoided, send the both of you wandering in circles, just to make Dirk do some leg work. You feel a little bad about it though, and knock it off once the two of you are forced to run away from an approaching boulder Indiana Jones style. Like, it was really exciting and all, and it gives you an excuse to hug Dirk in excitement afterwards, but you think that’s quite enough.

The thing that really does it, you think, is actually completely unintentional. You swear.

You’re near end of the tomb, you assume, and you come to a passageway that forks. Both paths look identical and there appears to be some sort of puzzle here geared towards choosing one. You spy a plaque with words on it.

“Oh! Dirk, it must be a riddle,” you say, words muffled by your gask mask. You nudge him with your elbow. “It’s your time to shine!” Riddles are totally right up his alley! He gets to exercise that big brain of his, and you get to watch.

Dirk huffs. “Yeah. Sure. Cause I’ve been dead weight this entire time, I guess,” he mutters. You...assume it’s in a way he didn’t intend for you to hear. But, uh. Dirk seems fairly irritated with you right now. You should not be poking the bear like that, guilty as you are. You mean to say something in apology, but Dirk’s already stepping away to scrutinize the riddle.

Left to your own devices, you vaguely listen to Dirk mumble bits of the riddle aloud to himself and start logic-ing. Cool. You bounce on your heels, twiddle your thumbs, and are useless.

“Okay, so...I’m guessing this is related to the gas, somehow,” you hear him say. “It’ll glow different colors depending on what the surrounding walls are made out of? When exposed to heat, probably. And we want the white path, I...guess.” He keeps squinting at it, but you assume he’s already figured it out. It seems straightforward enough, and Dirk is sharp as a tac at this sort of thing.

“Oh, well in that case let me just...” You pick a random direction to walk down, intending to experiment with said colors.

“Wait, Jake, hold on, if we pick wrong it’ll--!”

Too late. There you go again, getting ahead of yourself. Once you’ve entered the left path, there’s a brief tremble and a wall slams into place behind you, trapping you in the dark.

“God _damnit_ , Jake!!” you hear Dirk shout. Shit.

“I-I’m okay!!” you call back, immediately. You don’t want him thinking you got dropped into a spike pit or something. You’re perfectly fine. Even if you aren’t the biggest fan of the dark.

“Motherfucking...” Dirk is closer to the wall now. You can’t quite make out whatever emotion that is in his voice. “Are you sure? Is there anything in there with you?”

“I can’t tell, it’s too dark!”

“Perfect,” Dirk shouts, and wow, you hear it now. He must be real wound up if his exasperation is that audible.

“I guess this means we split up?” you suggest, searching your sylladex for some kind of light source.

“No it fucking doesn’t, Jake. You stay right there and I’ll find a way to get to you.”

“Oh, come on!”

“No. You do NOT get to be mad at me right now. Just this once, you _listen_ , alright??”

You...have nothing to say to that. It dawns on you that this is not how you expected this to go. You just wanted to make Dirk tired, not angry. You mistakenly thought that anything which would stress or exhaust him were basically the same thing. And maybe you knew that they weren’t the same, deep down, but you ignored it. Because you were frustrated, and wanted to take it out on Dirk. Who really does deserve it the least.

“....O-okay,” you finally say, feeling a little humbled. “I’m sorry, Dirk.” You slide down the wall and plop your bottom down right there with zero intention of moving until Dirk says so.

“It’s...” Dirk pauses. “It’s fine. Just hang tight. I’ll figure this out.”

It’s not fine, you know. Dirk is getting increasingly distraught as he tries to get you out. He disappears at times, trying to find some way to circumvent the wall and meet you on the other side. He doesn’t want to go too far lest he get lost, or so he says. You know the truth is that he doesn’t want to leave you alone in the dark for too long. Every time he returns he asks if you’re okay,  and you can tell he’s worried you’re getting scared or panicked. You kind of are, but there is not a shred of doubt in your mind that Dirk _will_ save you, and he _won’t_ leave you. So long as you focus on that, you’re fine. For now.

You’re stuck there for two whole hours. Dirk works himself up into a silent frenzy the entire time. You eventually brave the pitch black hallway and determine that it is yet another dead end. Upon even closer inspection, you deduce the relatively small area is...also sort of airtight, and filled with unbreathable gas. No wonder it’s so stuffy.

You don’t tell Dirk that. You wouldn’t dare. If he thought there was some sort of time limit on your rescue he might outright panic, which is the last thing either of you want. If Dirk panics, you will panic, because his tenuous composure in this situation is the only thing keeping you from curling up into a ball and giving in to hopelessness and terror.

Eventually, Dirk resorts to just blowing the wall up. You can hear the desperation in his breathing and grunts as he hammers away at the door with something. It makes you feel worse and worse with every blow. Then he tells you to stand back, which you do, and you thank the fucking stars that Krypton gas is utterly inert when the wall crumbles from what you can only assume were a bunch of Dirk’s enhanced cherry bombs. You put your arm in front of you to shield yourself from the blast, but the sudden burst of light after so long in the dark is enough to momentarily blind you. You rub at your watering eyes as they struggle to adjust to the brightness, when a figure slams into you.

It’s--oh. It’s Dirk. He’s hugging you.

“You need to stop fucking _doing_ this,” Dirk mutters, arms tightening around your torso. You blink dumbly for a few seconds before you’re able to process what’s happening. When you do, you feel a surge of both elation and guilt. You hug him back just as tight, fighting past the lump in your throat to try and respond.

“Sorry,” you manage, and you genuinely mean it. You can’t guarantee you’ll never screw up again, but you are certainly done with doing it on purpose. Talk about _stupid_.  

You stay there like that for a minute or two. You are over the moon that Dirk seems to be voluntarily holding you, not pulling away like the contact is burning him. To you, this feels like a victory. A spark of hope ignites in you that maybe, despite your selfishness, things can work out.

When he does pull away, he runs a hand through his hair in a way that makes you wish could see his face behind his gas mask. “We’re going back,” he says, and then proceeds to _grab your hand_ as he turns to leave. You are so taken aback, it doesn’t occur to you to resist. Not that you would.

He holds your hand so tightly as you exit the tomb, you just stumble along with glee. It’s probably only because he’s paranoid about being separated again, but you will take what you can get dagnabbit!

A quiet falls over the both of you on the trip back to the apartment. On the rocket board you cling to dirk giddily, relishing every second of closeness, intentional or no. Arms tucked against his chest, you nuzzle your face into the back of his shoulder and sigh with contentment. He twitches a little but doesn’t try to pull away.

When you arrive, although you know you have to, you are extremely reluctant to let go of him. The moment your feet touch concrete you move to try and hold his hand again, grab onto his shirt, anything to maintain contact. But he’s already heading down the stairs, not looking in your direction. Following quickly, you try to resist the sinking feeling in your stomach. Everything is fine. Dirk is just eager to get inside, that’s all. Once you both are comfortable you can officially start moving past this vexing, but ultimately brief, bump in your relationship.

He still doesn’t look at you as you head through the front door. “Dirk?” you ask, trying to get his attention. All you get is a brief glance over his shoulder.

“I’m gonna go shower,” he says quickly, looking away again. “You can head to bed if you want.”

You recognize the dismissal immediately. That’s his way of telling you that you’re alone for the night. Dirk heads down the hallway to the bathroom, and you are left standing there, feeling bereft. Oh.

What a fool were you, to think that anything had _actually_ changed.

\-----

Your mind races as you sluggishly get yourself some dinner, eat alone, and drag your feet to Dirk’s room. You had genuinely thought the hug had meant he would be okay with lying in bed with you. You’d gotten your hopes up so high, feeling them crash back down to reality is a special sort of painful. Dirk is likely mad at you, after your ridiculous stunt. Why would he want to spend the night with you? Dumb. Stupid stupid dumb.

It takes you another stretch of time for the hurt to fade, replaced with anger.

You are at the end of your fucking rope. This is--when is anything going to change? You still feel just as lost, just as frustrated, and LONELY. _Unwanted_ . You don’t care if this whole thing was definitely your fault. You don’t care! You want this to be over!!! You have to find out if Dirk is _ever_ going to be okay with touching you, or you are going to explode!

So you enact the latter half of your dumb plan. You wait by the bedroom door to try and listen for when Dirk gets out of the shower, which takes about as long as you might expect. You hear him take a few steps down the hall, but then he hesitates on the other side of the bedroom door. He stays there for a good minute or two. You hold your breath and wonder if maybe, just maybe, he’s considering coming to join you.

Then he moves on, and you resist the temptation to punch the door. You grit your teeth and tug at your hair in silent fury. Of course he didn’t. Of course not!!! AUGH!!!! After fuming mutely for a few minutes, you collect yourself enough to open the door and tip-toe down the hall as quietly as possible, keeping a watchful eye out for Dirk.

You don’t see him in the kitchen. Okay. The front door is still closed. Right. You peer veeeeery carefully around the corner, and finally spy Dirk hunched over his workbench. Or...or rather...

His head is currently pillowed by his arms on the bench. He’s _sleeping_.

You stand, staring agape at him. There’s...a lot to process. First and foremost, the fact that this is the first time you’ve seen Dirk asleep. He’s positively adorable. You can’t really see everything you want to, and Dirk is hardly as relaxed as he could be considering he’s lying on a _bench_ , but you cannot deny how precious he looks.

Less precious when you remember Dirk apparently had a good long think over where he would like to sleep tonight, and he chose this fucking plank of wood over you.

At that thought, you are so utterly consumed by rage and hurt and frustration, you march over and slam your hand on the desk right next to his head. Dirk jumps almost a full foot in the air, narrowly falling out of his chair. Normally you would feel a little bad about startling him that badly, but you’re too MAD. He stares at you, shades askew, mouth flapping open and closed a few times before snapping shut at what is likely the beyond enraged look on your face.

“What is this?” you snap, after a beat of stunned silence.

Dirk clears his throat. “What...what’s what?”

“ _This_ .” You gesture between him and his _precious_ work table. “Napping on the bench?”

His eyebrows do a whole lot of interesting things before settling on a guarded expression. “I...fell asleep on it.”

“Yes! Exactly.” You put more of your weight on the bench, looming over him. “What is the _deal?_ ”

“What are you getting so pissed about??” he retorts, seeming genuinely affronted. “I’m sorry I fell asleep? Is that what you want to hear?”

“No!!” you seethe, pushing away from the table to pace up and down the room, grimacing and turning back around every time you get a look at Dirk’s dumbfounded expression. You can tell Dirk’s eyes are following you, even past his infernal shades. You have never once seen him quite this confused. Vindictively, you think, _good!_

Dirk appears torn between standing up or remaining in his chair, but stays silent as more words push past your lips. “In fact, I’m fairly fucking glad to discover that you actually DO sleep! Which I haven’t seen you do _even once!_ Like it’s some shameful _secret_ you feel the compulsion to keep from me!”

“...Uh,” Dirk tries to start, but oh no, you’re not having any of that now. Nope. This has been such a long time coming.

“What the devil fucking dickens is going on with you, Dirk??” you whip around to bark at him, actually shouting now. “Do you think I’m that stupid? That I wouldn’t notice every single time you ‘ _dismiss’_ me for bed?!”

“Hold on, what--” He shifts restlessly in his seat. “That’s not what I--”

“What are you hiding from me?!” you yell, hands balling into fists. “Or are you even hiding anything at all? Is it really just that you would rather hurt your back sleeping on a BENCH than with _me_?!” Your voice gets dangerously close to cracking, and you feel your face and eyes start to heat up.

Dirk looks as if he’s been slapped. Just stares at you, agape. But that’s not what you want. You just--you want an explanation! You want _HIM_! The angry tears start to form in your eyes, and Dirk’s expression goes from shocked to near panicked.

“I--Jake, that’s not--”

“Then what is it? What’s been going on??” The tears sting with hurt and shame as they roll down your cheeks, unbidden. “What am I doing wrong?!”

“I-it doesn’t have anything to do with you!” He says quickly, finally standing, hands held up in an appeasing gesture. “...Mostly.”

You groan. “Dirk!!” You have had it with the vague answers, the endless confusion, the dodged questions!

“Jesus christ, Jake, could you hang on for a second?! I didn’t expect to have my fucking sleeping habits scrutinized like this, okay? In fact that is sort of what I was trying to _avoid_?”

“What exactly do you think you’re keeping from me, here??” you snap. “I already know about your insomnia! I thought that might have been special? I thought--” your voice cracks and you clear your throat, wiping angrily at your eyes. “--all that time we spent, over the phone, aching to be together. Did it mean _nothing_ to you?!”

“Of course it--!” Dirk cuts himself off and makes a face like he’s holding back several emotions at once. It looks sort of funny actually, but nothing about this is funny, so you don’t laugh. “It’s just not...that easy. You. You wouldn’t understand.”

Oh, fucking...is he serious?! You glare at him incredulously. “ _REALLY?!_ Try me, big shot! Come on!”

“Nothing’s been the same!” He blurts out, suddenly, red in the face and desperate. “Nothing’s been--since we entered, everything is just so different.”

You feel a small fraction of your ire dissipate. Finally, you’re getting somewhere. It’s not somewhere that makes all that much damn sense, but it’s somewhere. “Is that it? Really? You thought _I_ wouldn’t understand what it’s like to adjust to new circumstances?” Had he forgotten why he offered you his bed in the first damn place? It’s hard to not feel offended, actually. You’ve been trying to be understanding of his discomfort this entire time, and he just brushes you aside like that?

“No that’s--that’s not what I mean. Not like that!” His hands clench and unclench. You can tell he’s getting extremely antsy, wanting to exit this conversation, find an escape route. Well, you’re not letting him go that easy. You step closer.

“Okay then, what _is_ it like?” Your own voice starts decreasing in volume. You don’t want to be angry anymore. You just want answers.

He goes quiet, but you don’t press him. You can tell the gears in his head are working in overdrive to formulate a response. You keep your posture and expression stern, tears starting to dry up. Finally, he speaks, soft and unsure. “It’s...I. I don’t have a dream self, anymore. On Derse.”

“I don’t have one either,” you say, immediately.

“Not the same,” he responds, just as immediately. “You never woke up, on Prospit. On Derse, I...I was always awake.”

You blink, not really registering what that means. “So...so, you miss Derse? Is that it?” It’s certainly not what you expected, but it’s all you can think of that comes close to explaining Dirk’s odd behavior.

“No. I mean. I was always awake, _all the time_ ” He looks extremely anxious talking about this. “Like. Simultaneously.”

Uh.

“You...really?” your anger is entirely forgotten in favor of curiosity and bewilderment.

“Y-yeah,” he says, rubbing his arm nervously. He looks down at his hand on the bench. “It was...hectic, but it was what I was used to. Only having one waking body was a simple enough adjustment to make, but...”

“Hold on,” you stop him and try  to wrap your head around this. “Your dream self was _always_ awake? But...what happened when you slept?”

Dirk sighs. “I’d just...still be awake on Derse,” he tells you, shoulders slumping. “See, it’s...this is what I meant, by you not understanding.”

“Then explain it to me,” you say earnestly, stepping even closer. Dirk stiffens but doesn’t step back. You don’t want this wall between you anymore. “Please.”

There is another beat of silence, as Dirk takes a long, deep breath. “...Whenever I slept, I’d just be conscious and hang out on Derse. My dream self never needed rest, though sometimes I’d let my awareness of it slip. Probably more often than I should have.” He continues to avoid eye contact with you, looking basically everywhere but in your direction. “I’ve. Never dreamed, before. Not...really.”

He curls up on himself further, and you start to feel comprehension hammer its way through your thick skull. Your chest tightens with an emotion you can’t yet parse.

“It’s...I don’t know how to deal with it. Dreaming.” His voice is quiet and strained as he makes his shameful admission. “It. Kind of fucking scares me, to be honest.”

Your shoulders sag, and...boy howdy, does your chest start to ache. “Dirk...”

“Like, obviously, I can’t just never sleep. I know that. But I’m more used to no sleep than whatever the hell real sleep is, and even though losing consciousness is still fucking bizarre I’ve been getting used to it slowly. It’s just. Dreaming, I can’t...” his breathing picks up in speed for a tick, and you feel an impulse to leap forward and hold him, but it goes back down. “So I just...take power naps. Half an hour every four hours if I can manage it. Before REM kicks in. It keeps me functional.”

You swallow thickly. Your limbs and heart feel heavy. “And you didn’t want me to know?”

Dirk is determined to stare a hole into the floor, and you’re staring a hole into him. He’s quiet for another beat. You feel numb. “I don’t really have an excuse that isn’t dumb as shit. I didn’t think you would care that much, and...if you _did_ , I knew you would probably have all these expectations of--of sleeping with....” His voice cracks and he trails off, but you think you know what he was trying to say, and it doesn’t help the lump in your own throat one bit. “It’d open this huge door, and I wouldn’t be able to meet your expectations, so I just. Avoided it. It wasn’t better in the slightest, and made everything worse, and I’m sorry.”

Well, there’s no way you could ever hold _that_ against him. Avoiding problems is sort of your modus operandi, isn’t it? You didn’t handle this situation any better than he did.

Now, after all that, here you are. Dirk has laid himself bare to you, vulnerable and probably scared out of his wits. Because he’s...good god. Because he’s never _dreamed_ before? Never slept? Never had a moment of respite from consciousness? No wonder he’s always so tense! He’s terrified of _sleep_.

Your heart _aches_ for Dirk Strider. This just simply cannot be allowed to go on. You won’t stand for it. For him to stand there and feel ashamed of the cruel hand life dealt him.

You take another step forward and reach your hand out for his, the one currently resting on the table. His stiffens and his head whips up in surprise to look at you, skittish like a deer about to canter away. You hold him in place, linking your fingers together, keeping your attention on your hands and not on whatever expressions Dirk is currently making. You give him that little bit of privacy. You rest your other hand on his shoulder and lean forward, pressing your forehead to his chest. You can feel his heartbeat thumping away, and his shaky breath ghost over the crown of your head.

With perfect clarity, you realize that you have never really kissed him. Not once. That...incident from before doesn’t count. He wasn’t exactly an active participant. Plus, you were so focused on making this big show of it you didn’t put much feeling into it. Why would you have bothered? It was a fucking severed head. But this Dirk is real, and alive, and with a body currently standing ramrod straight.

Pulling back a bit, you peer up at face and can see his lips trembling. You sigh. “Enough of that, I think.” Enough of this artificial distance. You’re closing the gap, since Dirk can’t muster the gumption to do it himself. In your opinion, he shouldn’t have to. He’s got enough going on in his head. Someone has to knock the wall down, reach in, and yank him out. You scold yourself for not doing it sooner. You’re sort of a coward that way.

You move your hand from his shoulder to cup his cheek--it’s so warm--and Dirk leans into it just that little bit. That’s encouraging. You try to gently grab Dirk’s infernal shades, subtly tugging them off his face. When Dirk catches on he stiffens further, hand jumping up as if to stop you, but he hesitates. “Jake--”

“Hush.” Your faces are very close, now. “Come on. Let me?”

His hand hovers there for another second, before Dirk lowers it and slowly nods. You smile, pluck the frames off of his face, and set them on the table. You look up and meet his eyes.

They’re wide as dinner plates, fixed on you. Holy mackerel, but does he look different without those triangles in the way. He looks softer. Ten times more adorable, and attractive. Infinitely more kissable. As you look over him hungrily, you can’t help but notice the dark and angry bags under his eyes with another pang of sadness. You need to fix that.

Your hand shifts on his cheek so you can gently wipe your thumb over those ugly bags. Dirk twitches again, hand jerking upward once more as if to pull you away. But then he just lays his hand atop yours, and you feel your heart start to race on your chest. He looks at you with wide-eyed wonder, anticipation, and probably some amount of fear.

You’re, uh, kind of nervous too. Big moment, here. Can’t mess it up. But...it’s fine. Just have to go for it, right? How long have you been fantasizing about this?

“About damn time,” you mutter, closing your eyes and leaning forward to press your lips to his.

At first, Dirk goes ramrod straight. But then he slowly but surely relaxes against you, melting where he stands. You don’t do much of anything other than stand there and press your faces together, but even that feels intense. He’s so warm and so _close_. Both of your hands are wrapped up in each other’s tightly. Your pulse hammers in your ears. You feel Dirk start to shake apart against you, because of what you are doing to him. Holy fucking mackerel. No amount of fantasizing can hold a candle to the real McCoy.

You’re not sure how much time passes like that. You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until you finally pull apart--your lips making a lude wet smacking sound, cripes -- and you feel the need to gasp for air. Dirk does too, but his eyes stay closed and only open very, very slowly once he’s caught his breath. You don’t have anything smart to say, and neither does he. You’re both perfectly content to just allow this moment to exist without comment.

“...Let’s head to bed?” you say, quiet but insistent. As happy as you would be to stand here and keep at this forever, you think everything would be infinitely better lying down in a bed. It’s what you’ve been aching to do for weeks.

“Uh,” he mumbles, sort of dumbstruck. Alright. It’s likely better he doesn’t have a say, so he has no chance to entertain doubts and fears.

“Come on.” You move your one hand from his face and gently tug him away from the desk with the other, fingers still locked together. He fumbles a bit but follows you numbly, and that’s fine. You’re in his room with the lights off soon enough. You maneuver him over to the bed and nudge him until he sits on the edge. He stares off at his window as you remove your glasses and set them on his desk. When you return your attention to him, his eyes flicker to you nervously.

“Dirk,” you urge him to lie down, putting your hands on his shoulders. He bites his lip, gaze flitting everywhere. It’s so nice to be able to _tell_ he’s anxious. He’s so easy to read like this.

“Are you sure--” he blurts out, but you don’t let him finish.

“I have never been more sure about anything, Dirk. In fact, if you don’t get into bed right this second, I am going to drag you in and hold you down.” You leave it at that, no real anger in your voice or anything. Dirk doesn’t protest further, and he lets you push him backwards onto the bed. You climb in after him, fiddling with the blanket to wrap the both of you up, and he tries to shift to give you room. You are having none of that nonsense, and reach out to tug him close to you, his arms trapped between your chests. One of your hands finds its way into his slightly damp hair. You close your eyes and let out a shaky, happy sigh. It’s so soft. You’re so comfortable.

It’s very, very warm, with two bodies pressed together. In fact it’s sort of....overwhelming, even to you. Dirk must be beside himself, and you can tell he’s still incredibly tense. You keep carding your fingers through his hair, and even try rubbing circles into his back. The tension in his muscles sloooowly leaches out of him at your ministrations, and he lets out a long, heavy sigh. His hands worm their way out from between your bodies to rest at your hips. His feather-light touch in that particular spot sends a jolt of electricity right to your groin, and you can feel your face heat up a little. Uh. What a time to be reminded of your other considerable frustrations.

He’s so limp and vulnerable in your arms. You’ve only just managed to get him to relax. There are parts of you that would like nothing more than to ask Dirk if he could stand to indulge your debauchery, but the more logical parts of you cry out in alarm at even _thinking_ about doing such a thing. You don’t want to pervert this thing that’s supposed to be about Dirk, about helping him overcome his fears.

...Later. One wall at a time, you think.

“Try to sleep, Dirk.” you whisper, resting your chin on the crown of his head. “I’ll be right here the whole time.”

“Jake...” he mumbles against your shirt.

“Diiiiirk,” you whine, smiling a little, cutting off any possible protests.

“Just. Thanks.” He takes another deep breath. You feel his whole body expand with it, then contract as he breathes out. “And uh. I guess...be prepared for me to. To be a mess.”

“I’ve got you,” you insist, tightening your hold.

“I....okay.” He leaves it at that, and actually _nuzzles_ a little against your chest, and he can probably hear how your heart rate picks up at that.

\----- 

You wait patiently for Dirk to drift off, determined not to sleep before he does, just in case. It doesn’t take as long as you thought it would. You keep carding your fingers through his hair and rubbing his back as you feel his hands twitch and relax on your hips. His whole body sags against you and into the mattress.

After about ten minutes he’s suddenly twitching more, squirming, then waking back up with a gasp and a few jerks in your grip. You hold him carefully even as he has a miniature freak out. He clings to you tightly, shaking like a leaf for a little over a minute, before finally relaxing again.

“Fuck,” he groans, pressing his face hard against your chest. “Sorry.”

“No need,” you shrug. “You’ll get the hang of it. My caboose is planted fairly squarely in this bed.”

“Your caboose,” he echoes, with vague amusement. Another sigh. You twirl some of his soft locks around your finger. “You enjoying yourself? Somehow?”

“Oh, extremely,” you say, grinning. You could probably play with his hair for hours. And likely will.

“Weirdo,” he grunts, but relaxes for attempt two. He takes several deep breaths, and keeps doing that until he’s off on another tentative pilgrimage to slumber land.

He wakes up twice more in a similar fashion, managing to get a few more winks in each time. All you can do is keep at your soothing ministrations, and gently shush him back to sleep. You think it’s finally stuck once he manages to pass the half hour mark snoozing away. You smile and let your own eyes close, thinking that victory is yours...

Almost as soon as you’ve slipped into a dream, Dirk jerks violently against you, snapping you awake. Immediately, you can tell something’s wrong. Dirk is awake again, and you can hear him make an aborted sort of whining noise. His breathing is shallow and fast.

Oh, no.

“Dirk?” you whisper, shifting your hold a little to try and look at him. But he just curls in closer to you, like he’s hiding, balling his fists in your shirt. You can feel his shoulders shake and hear him try to gulp in air but fail, and you feel dread drop into your gut. “Dirk, shhh, shhh, it’s okay. Dirk?”

“God, this is so...f-fucking _stupid_ ,” he chokes out, and you can hear his voice break. OUCH, does that hurt your poor bleeding heart. “What’s wrong with me??”

“Nothing! Hey, it’s okay,” you keep trying to reassure him. You’re not sure what to do. You try to remember how Dirk helped you, not so long ago, but all you can recall is his comforting steady voice and your own embarrassment and terror. You really need to nip this in the bud. Dwelling on the idea of Dirk being that terrified of _dreaming_ hurts too much for you to remain as composed as he could. You shift to pull his face up level with yours and cup his cheek with your hand. “Dirk.”

His eyes are still stubbornly closed, and he swallows, continuing to breathe more erratically. He even tries to pull away, the rascal. “You don’t have to--do this,” he says quickly.

“Mmm, and yet here I am anyway, doing it,” you say sharply, pulling him back. “Don’t get cold feet on me now, Strider. Everything is _fine_. You were just dreaming.”

“What even is...how can you just...” His breathing picks up further. Shit. Shit, are you...fucking this up? Are you making things worse??

“Dirk. Dirk. Hush. It’s okay. You can do it. I believe in you wholeheartedly, chum,” you say, pressing your foreheads together and evening out your own breathing for him. That does something, you think. His breath hitches at first, which has you worried, but then he seems to be more consciously measuring it with yours. Then...oh, no, Dirk. There are a few small tears leaking from behind his closed eyes. That _hurts_.

You quickly and impulsively kiss them away, ignoring how the salty liquid tastes on your tongue. Dirk trembles. But then you can feel him relaxing again, slowly. His breathing still isn’t quite normal, and you aren’t sure if this is a terrible idea or not. But you kiss his cheeks, and then his nose, and the corner of his mouth, and then his mouth again, just trying to impart somehow how much you WANT for him to be okay. That must be helpful somehow, because Dirk lets out a tiny whimper and goes back to holding you. It’s tight but not as jittery.

Reassured, you press him back against your chest, chin on his head, rubbing his back. He cycles through regular and heightened breathing a few times, but you just shush him through it until he eventually, finally, goes back to sleep.

New exhaustion hits you all at once, making you shudder. You frown, and frown more, thinking harder about how fucking cruel it is that Dirk is having panic attacks over something like this. You can’t stop your own bitter tears and don’t try to. You just press your mouth to the top of Dirk’s head and hold him as tight as you can, praying that for once, the fates will give Dirk Strider a fucking break.

You’re too tired to remain awake yourself, after all that, and it only takes you a few minutes to drift off. It’s been a long night.

\----- 

The long night extends into something of a long morning. When you wake up, Dirk is still there, loose and pliable and blissfully unconscious. His hair is sticking up every which way; it’s practically a giant adorable puff ball, cripes. You blink yourself awake and briefly shift to try and check the time. It’s nearly 1pm, holy guacamole.

Dirk is fairly sprawled out, and so are you. Your legs are tangled with each other and the blankets awkwardly, and your torso is pressing Dirk’s into the mattress, nearly lying on top of him. One of his hands is still down at your hip. You’re not sure where the other is. His mouth is open ever so slightly. Good gravy, is that _drool_? It is!!!

This is the cutest thing you’ve ever seen and you drink it in for the next twenty minutes, smiling like a fucking loon. That’s when Dirk snorts, twitches -- cute -- and blinks awake with the most adorable delirious look of surprise on his face. His mouth makes a little ‘o’ and his gaze flits around until it settles on you and your thousand watt grin.

“Mornin’,” you greet him, smile widening. “Well...more like afternoon, really.”

“...Huh.” He grunts, and keeps blinking and scrunching up his face in confusion. The hand not on your hip moves to rub at his eyes, and he attempts to stretch. You wish you could be taking pictures!

“Congratulations, by the by!” You chuckle, scooting forward. “How was your first dream?”

“Shit,” he mumbles. “Was that what that was?”

“Yeppers!” you chirp.

“Fucking....” he yawns. CUTE. “Weird.”

“Do you remember it at all?” you ask, eager. “Normally you forget dreams pretty quickly but this was your _initiation_ and all.”

“Initiation?” he snorts, raising an eyebrow at you. “Into what? The REM scouts?”

You chuckle. “That’s a cute name for it. Sure!” You absently twirl your finger around Dirk’s chest, plucking at the fabric of his shirt. He glances down at that and then over at you again.

“Don’t remember it, no,” he admits. Boy, does he still look mildly surprised at everything he sees.

“How do you feel?” You quirk your head to the side a little, your eyes still riveted on Dirk’s face.

He thinks on that a second. He looks at the ceiling, then at you, then your finger, and then his hand on your hip. He scoots closer. “Can I get back to you on that one,” he mumbles. You chuckle.

“Sure thing.” You chew on your lip from sheer giddiness. Oh, this is everything you wanted. Mostly, anyway. Dirk’s precariously placed hand remains a keen reminder of your keen appetite.

“Hey, Jake,” Dirk says, resting his head against a pillow. “I’m. Sorry about last night. Freaking out like that.”

“Don’t,” you warn. “I’d much rather have been there then let you deal with all that on your own. Any day.” You shift a bit to nuzzle his shoulder. “I’m fairly tickled pink right about now. Okay?”

“Oh,” he says curtly. That’s all either of you say for a little while, as you simply rest comfortably together. The idyllic scene doesn’t last forever, though, because soon you realize that the warmth has actually been pooling particularly in your abdomen. Your pants feel weirdly tight...oh. Shitnickers.

You’re in a pickle here. Your entire being groans in protest at the thought of moving and breaking the companionable silence. But this is more than a little embarrassing. Just like the kiss, it’s one thing to fantasize, and another entirely to have a serious case of morning wood within kissing distance of your boyfriend. All he needs to do is look down and you’ll be busted. You’re sweating a little with nerves. You try to kind of...angle yourself away from wherever he might feel it--but oh criminy, that just makes the bulge in your pants more pronounced, SHIT.

“...Jake?” Dirk looks over at you, eyebrow raised at your red face. “Is something--”

You panic and surge forward to kiss him, just so he doesn’t finish that question, and so you don’t have to answer it.

Dirk makes a noise of surprise but doesn’t pull away, his hand hovering in the air before replacing itself back on your hip. Oh, you wish he didn’t. Or that at the very least he’d move it in one direction or the other, damn it all. But in your desperation to distract him, you kiss him passionately, gripping his face in your hands perhaps a bit too hard. You don’t really know what you’re doing. You just try to think of how those kisses look in the movies, like Harrison Ford and Leonardo DiCaprio, and clumsily moving your lips against his with your eyes squeezed shut. Dirk shudders and hums, and it feels...by jove, it feels...

Like it’s not helping mitigate your issue downstairs at all, that is for damn sure.

Dirk seems content to let you mack on him desperately until you lose steam. He pulls away, blinking at you as if trying to reassert reality around himself. “Uh...wow?” He gives you a confused smile. “What was that about? Not that I’m complaining. At all.”

Oh. So...he liked it?

“Um.” You wonder if you should just kiss him again, because you don’t know how to talk about this. You don’t know if you even _should_. It might be too soon. Even if you’ve been creepily lusting after him for weeks (more like months), this must be far too soon. What would he think of you if he knew?

“Jake?” Dirk seems to be getting concerned now. You don’t want that. But when you try to open your mouth, you just let out an embarrassing squeak. You redden further. “Holy shit.” Dirk has to hold back a bit of laughter. He’s so cute and handsome doing that, it’s not _fair_.

You want him to touch you so badly, you feel like you’re about to spontaneously combust. It’s so inappropriate--not that you know when it would be appropriate--and you have so little clue how to handle this, you just hide your face behind your hands and groan.

“Dude, what?” Dirk sounds on the amused side of worried. You can’t see what he’s doing, but you can feel him shift away from you a bit. “You’re acting really weird. What’s....” A pause. Damn it all. “...Oh.”

You let out an embarrassed whine.

“Damn,” Dirk whistles. You still aren’t looking so you can’t tell what his expression is. You kind of want to know but also kind of don’t. “Dude, hey. It happens, no big deal.”

You quickly peek over at him from behind your hands, glaring. “Oh no it doesn’t, not like this, you--” You choke at how amused Dirk’s expression is. “You ridiculously handsome devil.”

Dirk stares at you for a second until he apparently gets the message.  His eyes widen a bit and his cheeks redden. “Uh...” He sits up, his hands come off you, and you feel immediately bereft. “Oh, shit.”

This is it. This is where he figures out how much of a gross pervert you are, becomes disgusted with you, and runs off. Yup. And things were finally going so well...

“Woah,” Dirk says, weirdly. Part of you wants to get up and run off yourself to avoid the mortification. “Did I do something? _Should_ I...do...something?” His voice falters. You risk a glance at him and see him staring at you, instead of your crotch.

“Y-you don’t have to!!” you say quickly, propping yourself up on your elbows and debating whether you should sit up. At the moment it feels like you’re laying yourself out to be ogled at. Which...you don’t really mind the thought of, so long as Dirk doesn’t mind. Does Dirk mind?? “You’re under no obligation--”

“But you want me to,” he cuts you off, sounding a bit stunned.

You swallow and clear your throat. “I. Um. Certainly wouldn’t complain. If you wanted to.”

“Shit,” he says again. “Really?”

You’re not entirely sure what is happening right now. “Yeeees....?”

“Sorry, just.” He shifts a little. He’s sort of looming over you now, and...jiminy christmas, the way he’s looking at you...you swallow thickly. “Wasn’t expecting that.”

“Oh, _really_ ,” you say, incredulous. “As if I haven’t been ridiculously transparent about my interest thus far.”

“I mean...”

“Sweet Mary and Joseph, Dirk, do you want to do something or _not_?” You don’t want to lie here and talk about this until you’re both blue in the face, when you far prefer the deepening red.

A beat of silence. Dirk slides back down to lie next to you. “...Yeah. Shit, yeah. I do.”

You prop yourself up further to look at him, biting your lip. “You’re sure--”

“To echo some words a pretty hot guy told me not too long ago,” Dirk interrupts you. “I have never been more sure about anything, Jake.”

Your mind races. Dirk is...he’s _offering himself up_ to you, and you’re frozen. Because you can’t decide on what you want, you fickle thing. To keep him from thinking you’ve changed your mind, you stall by quickly shifting to hover over him, hands by his shoulders, knees by his hips. You stare down at him, and he looks up at you. Hell in a handbasket, he looks...

“...Boy shittying howdy, Dirk,” you breathe. “I don’t think you can understand quite how unfair this is.”

“Wha...?” He blinks at you in confusion, but still remains limp and relaxed underneath you.

“How long I’ve been aching for this, and when I finally get it, I realize I haven’t got a single clue what I’m doing?” You sigh, leaning forward to kiss his nose. His eyes scrunch up cutely when you do. “You’re so ruggedly handsome, you’ve got my head all gummed up with nonsense.”

“I...” Dirk’s arms twitch, and then they left up to gingerly wrap about your neck. He looks at you with wide, bright eyes. “I really don’t think there’s much of a way to go wrong here.”

You can already think of several ways this could go wrong. You don’t even want to think about how to use lube or condoms or whatever right now. Way too much to keep track of. So you haven’t got that many options. But every one of those options probably involves getting Dirk worked up in all of the best ways, right? Like you’ve fantasized about doing. You think you can workshop it from there.

“We’ll see,” you hum, kissing him again. His arms tighten around you and he leans up into it, eyes closing sweetly. It’s slow and meandering, without much urgency. Which isn’t the case for long, once you start to feel quite a bit of urgency in your pants.

You break away. Dirk is panting a little, his cheeks a lovely shade of red, eyes lidded. It’s so fucking hot, you plant a few more kisses on his face, before you move along his jaw and impulsively nibble on his earlobe. It’s all soft and pliable, and it makes Dirk gasp. “Jesus,” he breathes. You chuckle.

From there you sort of...wing it? Whatever you do, Dirk seems to like. You kiss his neck and his breathing stutters. You nip at his collarbone and his back arches ever so slightly. He keeps _looking at you_ and whatever expression he makes feels like the perfect one. How much time is passing? You don’t care. You take notice when Dirk is finally as bright red and gasping for touch as you are.

“Fucking hell, Jake,” he groans out, trying to tug you down closer to him. “For all that talk of ‘aching’ for me or--or w-whatever, you’re a real goddamn _tease_.” He punctuates this by bringing one of his knees up to rub between your thighs. You gag on air.

“E-eager, are we?” You try to quip, but you’re rapidly losing the ability to be a smartass. That’s okay, because Dirk doesn’t appear to be in much better shape. You’re both still wearing so many _clothes_. To rectify this, you sit up and rip off your shirt in one deft motion. Dirk makes a choking sound. Smirking down at him is sort of all you’ve got in you.

It’s extremely gratifying to watch his eyes scan over you with obvious interest. He even bites his lip, and his eyes flutter just so... “Your turn,” you insist, and he pauses in ogling you long enough to sit up and attempt to whip his own shirt off. But the angle isn’t quite right, so instead of a sexy maneuver he just kinda thwacks you in the face with his elbow and ends up stuck with his shirt and arms over his head.

“Fuck,” he grunts, trying to free himself. You would help, but you’re a little busy ogling his mostly headless naked torso. Oof. “God--damn it-- _Jake_!”

You can’t help it. You laugh as you help him remove his shirt. You move your face inches from his when it comes off. “Hey.”

He blushes darker. You kiss him, and you let him tug you down. You both groan as your hips brush together. It’s such an indescribable rush, feeling him react to you. Beyond what you could ever have imagined. Every patch of bare, sweaty skin that rubs against each other sends electricity right to your dick. You start to lose yourself to the sensations and freeze up. Then you feel Dirk fumble with the waistband of your pants. Oh. Ooooh.

While you’re busy reacting to the feeling of Dirk’s fingers on your bare hips, his mouth finds its way to your jaw. How the hell are you supposed to concentrate? Your pants have been lowered before you know it, and you blearily kick them off as Dirk does the same for himself. You help, and then you’re both naked except for your boxers. You stare at each other, your blood pumping loud and hard in your ears.

For a brief moment, you marvel at how you managed to get here when a few days ago you were ready to claw out of your own skin. But you don’t want to dwell on any of that, because you don’t want to be anywhere other than right here, in this moment. You wrap Dirk up close, in your arms, your hand in his hair and your nose pressed into his neck. He spreads his legs for you, christ, giving you room to slide right against him. He wraps them gingerly around your hips, and the two of you just. Rock, back and forth, simultaneously gentle and intense.

Time loses all meaning, and everything narrows down to your bodies and how they seem to slot together like puzzle pieces. There’s no grace to it, or any real intent beyond chasing that crescendo of pleasure against each other. Dirk’s breathing syncs in time with your movements, and you guess yours does too? You love the way his voice subtly increases in pitch until he’s burying his face in your shoulder, making a high keening moan, and shuddering against you.

You don’t stop. You’re so so _close_. Dirk keeps on making those noises as you rut against his now sticky boxers. Then you’re the one clinging tight to him and trembling.

After that, you barely spare a thought for your now ruined underwear as you collapse on top of him. The pair of you are a gasping, shuddering, sticky mess. Dirk’s arms feel so sturdy and comforting around your back. You can’t help but laugh and nuzzle his cheek.

“...We’re not getting out of bed today, are we?” Dirk mumbles.

“Oh, absolutely not,” you chuckle. “Have to make up for all that lost time somehow.”

“This was not what I expected to happen when I extended that initial invitation.” He shifts a little underneath you, and now you can see each other better. You work with him to move a bit further to the side, and let your head pillow against his shoulder.

“Really? What _did_ you expect to happen, then?” You raise an eyebrow at him, snorting.

A pause. Then he shrugs. “...Shit, I don’t know.”

“Exactly,” you huff, and poke his cheek. He makes a face. You laugh. “So let’s not dwell on any of that unpleasantness any longer. I’ve _earned_ my lazy day, I think.”

“Right,” he says, letting his head flop against yours. Honestly, it’s perfect. “...Thanks. For doing that.”

You’re not entirely sure what he’s thanking you for. For the orgasm? For yelling at him? For worrying him and being just as inept at communication as he is? You don’t know how to accept that, so you don’t really bother. You just hum in acknowledgement of his words, and continue to bask in the afterglow.

You’ll deal with all the rest of that stuff later.


End file.
